


Never Let Go

by Dirty_Corza



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, Mer!John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:37:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles about mer!John and human!Sherlock studying him. </p><p>Not in chronological order, and not a cohesive story, but i hope you enjoy this world as much as I enjoyed writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Random_Nexus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nexus/gifts).



John shivered as Sherlock's finger's ghosted over the scales of his tail, tracing the rugged edge of his scarred fin. "Your tail is especially sensitive?" the man asked, though it seemed more of an observation than anything else. 

"Yes, it- it is." John's hands gripped the edge of the tub as Sherlock continued to explore his anatomy.

"And all mer-people are like you?" 

John shook his head, the gills on his sides fluttering nervously. "We're just as varied as humans."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock was in a state of awe as he watched John swim in the huge, frigid pool. Apparently, the cold didn't affect him, at least as far as Sherock could see. And his arms were used almost solely for the purpose of turning at sharp angels, somehow still full speed through each turn that nearly grazed the cement edge. Every once in a while, John would slow for a moment or two, showing off the way his muscles moved as he swam, and Sherlock could tell why he was so fit. It was beautiful to watch.


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you breathe air?" Sherlock's fingers were resting over the gills on John's sides as they talked. John was glad his anatomy was different enough Sherlock had yet to learn when the blue tinge of his blush presented itself. "I don't know, Sherlock. There's more of magic than of science about us, even our scientists know that. Things like our blood being the color of our scales. Not to mention how we have children. How's aren't always there when we have a what." Sherlock nodded with a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

John hated sand, as Sherlock quickly found out. Algae was comfortable, mud preferable, and nothing could beat a bed of seaweed. Slowly but surely, he was building a picture in his mind of John's home in the sea- though sea wasn't necessary, just preferable. The way John described it, sea water had a richer flavor. Fresh water was nearly as bland to him as it was to Sherlock. And chlorine was, from what Sherlock could surmise, akin to cough syrup.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock hadn't expected John to react so strongly to the kiss. From what he had learned, physical contact didn't happen much with the merfolk. Even less with John, scarred and broken. Still, to be shoved across the room seemed a bit overreacting to Sherlock, it was just a light kiss, lips barely brushing before contact was broken, yet John had acted like it was mush worse, fear in his eyes. "You can't do that, Sherlock. Not with me." his voice was begging as he ducked his head under the water.

"Why?" Sherlock moved slowly to the edge of the pool where John's finger's still gripped the cement ledge. It took a moment for John to surface again. 

"If I ever go back, and they discover your taint on me, it's a death sentence. Just touching usually goes unnoticed. But when a human kisses you, it marks you and they- What they've done to humans for daring to love one of us... They don't even need to find you, they can maim just as easily from a distance."


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock hadn't known John could scream so loud, not until the blood-curdling shout woke him up in the wee hours of the morning.

"John? John! What is it? Are you alright?" He burst into the pool room to discover a horrified John standing next to the pool -standing!- a look of shock on his face as he stared at the blue-scaled legs now where his tail-fin had been the night before. Other than that, his anatomy appeared unchanged. "John?" he asked again, only to be met with a silent stare.

The legs brought a whole new course of study for Sherlock. Legs, near enough to a humans for John to wear clothing, though he still failed to have any anatomy that was obviously of a sexual nature. His scar still trailed down the left leg, twining over the scales as if the tail had been split and molded into these new appendages. 

"Oh gods, Sherlock." John's voice was breathy as Sherlock traced the new path of the scar, almost as if- and there it was, a tell-tale blue flush across his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock shuddered at the feel of it. What it was, he couldn't tell, all he knew was that with the feel of John's hand on his arm, stilling his hand, he could feel something on the edge of his mind, something the same deep blue of John's scales, creeping into his mind, inviting him to follow where it lead. "John?" he asked, turning his head toward where he knew he was, but finding his eyes closed so he couldn't see the muscular merman. 

"I don't know what's happening, Sherlock." John whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

The next thing he knew, Sherlock was submerged in the water, John's strong arms around him, his tail brushing gently against Sherlock's legs as they drifted to the bottom of the pool. He gasped, startled by the knowledge he was underwater, naked, with John, but even though he knew it was water that had to be filling his lungs he could still breathe. His eyes, though, he still couldn't open. "Sherlock? Tell me you're alright." John's voice was bright in his mind, soothing the initial fear he had.


	9. Chapter 9

"Telepathic communications?"

John could remember how skeptical Sherlock had been when he first told him how the merfolk communicated underwater. He also remembered his own response for being called a liar when it was to do with HIS abilities and HIS people. Sherlock had ended up pulled by the shoulders into the water so John could press their foreheads together, and speak straight to his mind. "Not usually so violent, but a bit like this. Physical contact is only needed for the first contact."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> directly continuing from chapter 8

"John, I'm, I'm alright, I think." He could almost hear the words as they echoed through the water, it was nearly a physical force the moment he knew John had heard. "Look at me, Sherlock." came the reply. "I can't." he strained again to open his eyes, but his world was still dark. "Tell me. Tell me what you feel." He frowned at the words, as if he was supposed to feel anything different? "Your tail against my legs. Your arms holding me. Water surrounding us. And your blue, caressing my mind."


	11. Chapter 11

John trembled as he kissed Sherlock, a soft kiss, tender, lingering, and the first he had ever placed on Sherlock’s lips. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something that said this was more than what it seemed. “John?” he asked tentatively, only to be met with his dear friend turning away from him, swimming toward the edge of the pool. 

“I’m so sorry.” came the whispered reply, and he was gone, in a flash of blue that left Sherlock blinking in the aftershocks. His blood went cold as he realized what it was that had made the kiss so strange. “It’s a death sentence.” he could hear the words clearly in his mind, the warning John had given him ages ago. He swallowed against the fear knotting in his stomach. He had to refuse to believe it. But that didn’t stop the doubt that crept to his mind. John, betraying him. Just the thought of it made him ache. John, signing a death warrant for him, and leaving him. It was illogical, and yet here was the proof in a kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock trailed his fingers through the pool as he listed off the facts of the matter to John. "-and there was no trace of gunpowder on his hands. So he couldn't have fired the shot, even though he confessed to it. Which triggered the memory of shaking his brother's hand, he had called us to hear the confession in the first place. His hands had a slight burn where the gunpowder should have landed. And they were fresh washed with fragrant soap."

John laughed, tail splashing behind. "Brilliant!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows chapter11.

Sherlock took case after case, working his mind overtime during the following months. John's room was locked away in his mind. Barred from entry during those dull times when he had no cases for the yard to work, when Mycroft refused to find something to indulge him. The months moved slowly, painstakingly so, without his merman to surprise him.

It was only after John was gone that Sherlock began to see how much he relied on him. Nights spent by the pool at his country house just talking to the stars, wishing for a familiar voice to aask some question about why humans did one thing or another. Or maybe asking why he didn't think about some insignificant detail that stuck out in John's mind. While he rarely ever asked something Sherlock hadn't asked himself, Sherlock was beginning to see how dull it was to do this alone now, after more than a year with a true friend to share it with.

That was what brought him to the pool at midnight one year after the kiss- after John had left. A year, and he was still alive. It made him wonder if maybe John had been lying that first time. But why would he? What purpose could that have had? There was a host of reasons for it all. Perhaps John hadn't simply left, perhaps he had died. There was no way for Sherlock to tell, not without searching for him, and that path had been forbidden to him by his own mind. His treacherous mind that refused to let him recall with any accuracy any detail about John more concrete than the color of blue in his tail. "Why, John? That's all I've never figured out. I could never think of a reason for it." He sighed as he got up, giving one last sad glance at the pool before heading up to his room. He almost turned as he reached the door, though, a faint splash echoing in his mind, but he didn't allow that of himself. He knew better than to look for John swimming beneath the surface of the pool. John hadn't been there for three hundred sixty five days. He wouldn't be there now.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows chapter 13.

John panted hard, holding onto the edge of the pool as he watched Sherlock leave. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn't. Not yet. That was part of his bargain. He couldn't tell Sherlock he was back, not until he was given the sign, though he didn't know what that was. 

He touched his fingers to his lips, sending quiet thoughts Sherlock's way. He had missed his friend dearly this past year, but he had found what he needed. A wish, one that would be granted soon, if the one who gave it to him was to be believed, and the price was already paid. A year in the making, the price had been paid in full.

Or so he thought.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> directly follows ch 14. directly before ch 6.

Days passed when John got back, mere days before it seemed their lives were normal once again. Sherlock examined him, assured himself that John was back, safe, sound, whole, and insisted to be told everything John had done. 

There wasn't much for John to tell, little things, like seeing his family, finding a way back. He said he'd never wanted to leave in the first place, that he hadn't known it was coming until the last moment, and Sherlock was inclined to believe him. It almost hurt John, how quickly Sherlock accepted his story, how Sherlock didn't bother to ask further about John's year away, how he could have spent a year trying to get back and not made it until now. But John wasn't about to complain. Things were better with Sherlock not knowing. Sherlock was safer not knowing. 

Besides, he was more than eager to hear the recap of the dozens of cases Sherlock had taken and solved over the year without him. Sherlock, for his part, seemed just as eager to tell him, sitting by the pool, lazily spending their days doing nothing more important than listening to him recount the things he'd deemed "interesting" enough to tell John about.


	16. Chapter 16

"Moriarty." John's body stiffened as Sherlock said the name. The detective frowned, fingers trailing along John's face, cataloging the responses he could no longer see. "What is the significance of that name? Why do I know it now, John? I've never heard that name before, but I know it." 

John was silent for a moment, face still against Sherlock's hands. "He's a manipulator of magic, Sherlock. Like- He's a cruel man. He's the one who- He's hurt a lot of humans, for the fun of it."


	17. Chapter 17

“What did you mean by that, John?” Sherlock was surprisingly strong in his new form, pinning John down in the pool with his hands, torso and tail. 

“B-by what?”

Sherlock growled, squeezing John’s wrists tighter. “You know more about Moriarty than you told me. He’s important, though I don’t know exactly how, and you’re scared of him. You, John Watson, who didn’t even fear me before you left for a year are scared of this person. Tell. Me. Why.”

John shivered, turning away from Sherlock’s face, even though he knew Sherlock was still blind, though he knew Sherlock couldn’t see the guilt on his face. “Moriarty is a master of magic. And I- I asked him to teach me how to manipulate it to change my shape. I wanted to have legs. To walk beside you, to be by your side as you worked, like I never could like this. That’s what my year was spent doing. Learning how to change.”

Sherlock was silent when John’s voice faded from his mind, the silence building until finally, with a twitch of his fin, he prodded for more. “And? That doesn’t explain the level of guilt in your tone, John. What. Else.”

“He- he asked, in payment, for me to kiss you. We’d been communicating before I left, and he said, if I came immediately to him with your kiss fresh on my lips, he’d teach me all I needed to know. And now… You’re blind, Sherlock, and changed, and that blue you remember in your mind when you changed? That wasn’t me, Sherlock. Moriarty shares the same blue. He made you blind, Sherlock. And it’s all my fault.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Touch Me Closer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/676647) by [Dirty_Corza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza)




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